He bellowed as the gilt turned around to reveal her piggy face, and her terrible breath. She went on to rant something about being late to the Temple of Oinky or somesuch, and that it was oink-o-clock. He’d heard enough at the Temple of Oinky, drew his kopis and severed the pig-woman’s head clean off. The head bounced against the porkish terrain, squishing and squirting blood with every rebound.
Finally, It came to rest between the hindquarters of what resembled a large pig’s backside. There, it sunk into the flesh, and gave way to a larger sinkhole that threatened to drag all in it’s orbit in.
The large blackness at the heart of the cesspool seemed to gather the fetid air and bloom outward. It coallesced into a widening abyss that threatened to collapse the entire world of the Pigs. Rakvald ran in the other direction, pumping his legs as fast as he could. But even he couldn’t outpace it’s expansion.
At the last, he leapt into the air, only to find his feet falling into the miasma of the abyss. There he fell, end over end flipping into darkness.
The sensation of falling was so vivid, that he believed for all his senses that it must be real, as strange as this fevered dream was.
At last, after what seemed like hours of falling, he plopped down on the bottom of the sinkhole. Surrounding him was darkness, and a gooey substance coated his hindquarters as well as his hands and legs.
He prayed then to Jesine, for Sanctuary.
This could not have come a moment too soon, for as he prayed for Sanctuary, it was given. He felt a warmth, and lavender-smelling cloud all around him, battling back the miasma. Beyond the light lavender bubble, he could sense something. At first he heard it, the rumbling of a beast’s hunger, it’s snorting and gnashing of teeth. Then it appeared to the light, a large, three headed, three-eyed pig. It’s three heads gnashed and breathed miasma.
”Ooooiiink!!”
Rakvald rose to his feet then, the cloud of sanctuary dissolving the sticky miasma that had stuck him to the ground. He found his kopis again, and whirled it in a figure-eight motion, attempting to keep the beast far at bay. His offhand guided the sword-hand, guarding and lending strength to his arm. With another motion, he swept forward, trying to keep his courage about him. The cloud of Sanctuary seemed to have a deleterious effect on the three-headed oinker. He took it’s right most head cclean off with a single swipe of his sword.
He brought his sword back to middle guard as the teeth of the other heads came forth to try and gnash him.
”What monstrosity has my mind conjured?!” He asked, of the dreamworld of no one in particular. Shaking his head of that question, he had little time to ponder it before resuming the fight.
The pig came forward again, gnashing its teeth, going low this time and aiming for his tender bits. He rewarded the monstrosity’s efforts with another, well placed overhead swing to it’s skull. The creature’s left most head then slumped in its flesh, not cleanly severed yet the middle head resumed it’s offensive, spreading miasma as the left head lost all strength.
He shielded his eyes, as the cloud of fetid terror encroached on his Sanctuary. Even his devotion to Jesine couldn’t keep the foulness at bay, before it threatened to tear into the heart of his circle, inside his guard.
Then, just before the miasma made contact with Rakvald himself, he heard a sound. Like a cat meowing in a cave, yet different somehow. It sounded vaguely like a harpsicord or some kind of musical instrument. The Oinker appeared to hear it as well, for it lifted its snout to sniff the air, and then bore it’s tusks threatening a great light that was descending from above.
The light fell on the Oinky, and dissolved it into a large rasher of crisp and salty bacon. A soft voice called from beyond the veil of dreams. Imploring him,
”Eat it, Rakky. I dares ya.”
”Who are you?” Thought Rakvald, not daring to speak the worlds aloud.
Rakvald for whatever reason, imagined whatever it was to be grinning as it responded,
”Just a friendly helper with a favor to ask. Every new marked friend of my lady gets one. Would you like to get to know us better?”
He quirked an eyebrow at the voice’s forthrightness. Then he shrugged,
”I suppose…”
”Then trust me, eat the bacon! Eat it eat it eatiteatiteatiteatiteatit!!”
Having thus been commanded and requested, Rakvald couldn’t deny that he was hungry, and the bacon looked reasonably clean. So he took a small, crisp crumb of bacon off of the larger peice, and tasted it reluctantly.
As it fell on his tongue, the voice chided him,
”Did I say taste it or did I say EAT IT!?” It asked, tsking.
So Rakvald, having determined that it wasn’t entirely poisoned, began eating bit after bit of the bacon. He continued until the very last bit was gone.
As he was eating it, he noticed more of his surroundings began to melt into a white light. With the very last bit eaten, it completely dissolved into a sterile room. He was out of the dream, or so it seemed.
”Ahh very good! You must’ve been hungry! You know, I heard there’s some good bacon to the east of where you are! You ought to take a boat to another port sometime. Quacia hasn’t been kind to you, Rakvald.”
Apparently it pleased this entity to point out what was blatantly obvious to the listener. Nevertheless, he took it on advisement.
”Very well… Am I going to get to meet you? Who or what are you?”
”Wake up.”
Just then, Rakvald woke with a start, as Mappy began lapping at his ear, trying to wake him. Apparently he’d rolled off the bed in his slumber. Maybe that was what had created the sensation of falling during his dream?
In any event, he had a long few days ahead of him. He got ready for the business of the coming trials.
